Low Pressure
by SpicyBleachedHead
Summary: Squall wakes up in the morning with terrible low pressure issues, and throughout the day he tries not to faint. Fortunately, or not, Zell's always there to help him. SquallxZell, don't like it, then don't bother being rude


Okay, people. This is my first upload in , but surely not my first fanfiction. This oneshot was written in the spur of the moment, when I woke up very tired during the morning and had trouble standing. But worry not: I triple checked for errors and changes that could benefit its quality as the story evolved. Even so, I ask you, few and rare readers, to review it and critique it as you see fit, as long as it's not rudely done.

I do not own any of the characters, it's all Square Enix's and -whoever wrote the story-'s stuff...

(26/4/2010 - 00:24 - I just did some minor changes so the narration made clearer sense)

(28/4/2010 - 23:18 - I realized just how much the world is rotten when it comes to unpolite people. I ask that those people, please, read this and try not to meddle on other people's ideals: you want to critique, fine, do it, but be polite and state your point like you would in a ph.D, because I do not tolerate irrationally anti-yaoi reviews... It's just a story, for Christ's sake. That is what art is all about, a lie that should be believed by some and hated by others... Yet, a lie that inconviniently, for some, most of the times shows just how bad the world is because of these people filled with hate in their hearts...)

**Low Pressure**

Everything seemed still. No movement came from anywhere of the picture. Yes, one could call it a picture exactly for that reason: it did not move. Yet, as dead — and dread — it looked, he could not say he did not took part of the image. He was the image. He was that dark grey swamp of loneliness that extended for as far as the eye could see.

However, he did not want to be part of such darkness no longer. He needed the so missed sun warming his skin. He needed any source of heat. He needed to move. And so he did.

Squall did fell from his bed.

It was hot. Too hot. He was all sweaty, no matter how cold it had been inside his dream. Unfortunately, he had a low pressure problem during the morning, which he usually took care of with a mild shower. He hated the cold, so low water temperature for him was as Squall-repelling as it is cat-repelling. Mild was just perfect. Should one make it too hot he would most certainly faint from low pressure again. It was so troublesome.

After a good relaxing shower, however, the heat still perpetuated its existence in the air. He knew he would soon be sweating again when he performed his duties later on, but he did not curse his own fate for that. His main concern was simply not fainting from the weakness that usually made him company during the hottest days of the year. He only hoped he would not faint near anyone else.

Or at least he _consciously_ hoped so.

As he walked out of the dormitory, heading for the cafeteria to have breakfast, he would often have his vision blurred, making him lean onto something so he would not fall down and become a commotion. Thankfully enough, the heat had woken him earlier than usual, so few people were on their way to eat like he was.

As he got there, sighing from the exhaustion caused by the lack of energy in his body, he bought himself some toasts, cake and juice. Maybe sugar would help. It was only after sitting down to eat his food he noticed how quiet things were. He looked at the wall clock: it was 7:30am. No one got there until half hour later, he realized. Squall was usually a lazy riser. He would only wake up — during normal conditions — at seven. Most people he knew would wake up at least half an hour earlier, but then again, most people he knew took three times more the time he took to eat breakfast because most people chatted while having a meal — he did not. Naturally, he had more time to sleep than them, even if it were only a few minutes. For Squall, every second sleeping counted.

After shoving the last of his juice down his throat, he stood too quickly. His head felt too light, and he saw pure white and nothing more through his eyes. Gravity seemed to have lost all effect on his legs, yet he knew — or did he? — that he was falling. Great, the big scene he so wanted to avoid would occur, especially because the time he took eating was long enough for the cafeteria to begin getting crowded like it usually was.

But the floor never touched his upper body. Something, _someone_ had prevented his fall. Strong, yet not quite long arms held him in an almost standing pose, with knees folded at ease.

"Wow, you're lighter than I thought!" said a voice over Squall's head. And so his heart finally decided to pump blood properly through his arteries. His stomach felt weird and he foolishly regretted eating the cake regardless of it being hard. Well, it had been chocolate after all.

Squall fully realized what had happened then and quickly stood properly, trying to act as natural as possible. He looked at his savior and noticed he knew him.

"Hi, Zell."

"Hey, Squall," the blond teenager said, a little embarrassed himself, "are you, uh, okay and all? I mean, you were just fainting, or whatever that was, so I wondered, are you eating properly?"

_Loud even in the morning,_ thought Squall. "I'm fine, and I wasn't fainting," he lied.

"_Sure_, whatever suits you," replied Zell, giving a prolonging tone to the 'sure'. "You're leaving, right? I'll see you 'round then."

"Whatever." Squall seemed to be more suspicious trying to look all mighty than he would if he just acted natural. But apparently, he always did that, so acting normal would probably have the same effect.

Squall left the cafeteria silently and resumed his day to perform his duties. Yet, his low pressure somehow seemed to be cured. Actually, his pressure seemed to be increasing overall. Maybe that was probably the reason he was so flushed and unable to concentrate on his commander tasks like the most recent report on a mission in Dollet about a extremist group that fought against the local 'random' rule of Triple Triad. His heart was beating too strongly for his own taste. Something was wrong. He yawned. Still, the sleepiness of the heat was again taking over him. He decided to rest his head on the desk for a while, just until he could concentrate again...

He started and looked at the digital watch: it was lunch time already. He was really not hungry and his face looked like it was shoved against a wall. He looked down and cursed: one of the reports was slightly drooled over. He would have to wait it to dry to resume, so why not take a stroll outside? His pressure was low again and some activity might make it better.

He had this spot near the front gate where he liked to be on hot days like that. It usually had more wind and it was under a medium sized tree, so shading was constant. Squall sat under it and stared off, not really thinking about anything. Maybe bored, maybe tired. He never knew which or even if it was one of the two. Something was missing, probably.

After what he estimated to have been fifteen minutes, he stood, slower this time, but not slow enough. He saw white again. But that time there was no one to hold him and stop his inevitable fall to the floor. At least it was grass, was his last thought before he went out.

He woke up when a familiar loud voice shouted something about him. Squall flinched to the illumination of the infirmary and sat up, very slowly this time.

"SHH!" scolded doctor Kadowaki, "Don't shout in here, Squall's... well, at least he was sleeping," she noticed.

"Hey, commander, you okay?" asked Zell while going to his direction.

Squall looked away, "I'm fine." Unnecessary concern, he thought.

"No, you're not," the doctor said, "You need to rest. This heat is not to be taken lightly. If it wasn't for Zell here, you might've had your cells fried out there."

"Why, what did he do?" asked Squall, fearing having being brought inside like a princess — or a dead body.

"I carried you here in my shoulder," explained Zell, "Man, I mean it, you're really too light, you should eat up some protein."

It somehow seemed worse than he had anticipated. Squall blushed too much and could not find any words to say. He felt dizzy and it was not low pressure.

"I should go back to work..."

"No," the doctor said, "You're staying right here."

"Can't I bring him over to his room? I bet he has a fan or something over there."

Doctor Kadowaki usually had a fan of her own in the infirmary. But it had recently broken during a storm when a lightning overcharged the electricity for a split second, frying the poor thing's motor.

"I guess there's no harm...," she admitted, "But you stay there and take care of him, Dincht."

"Yeah, yeah, I will," Zell replied, pulling Squall off the bed, and he shook Zell hands off instead.

"I _can_ walk." He was pissed off with the idea of being sick, but something inside him made him too embarrassed to be angry because of that. The anger came from the fact he was feeling better about the pressure, but then his heart was pumping too fast and eventually stabbing random needles of pain.

As they arrived at Squall's bedroom, he — Squall — still felt uncomfortable from the idea of him and Zell spending the afternoon together. It sounded... troublesome. Loudmouth Zell, would never shut up and be to unquiet to the so appreciated silence. But maybe, just maybe, he would behave.

Squall sat on his bed and turned on the ceiling fan. Boredom soon invaded his senses as he started to stare off. Zell broke the silence.

"So, uh, I'll fetch some water for you," he offered.

"Sure," _why not._

Zell, wandered around, looking for glasses for both of them. He soon came back and put a filled glass next to Squall while sipping his. He really seemed comfortable, maybe a little too much.

After contemplating nothing at all for exactly five minutes, Squall drank from his glass and lied down, placing his forearm over his upper face. That day was passing too weirdly.

"Hey, nice collection," Zell suddenly commented from somewhere in the room. Squall took a peek realized what he was talking about.

"Yeah, the battle series. I used to like it a lot."

"Man, I always wanted to have all of them," Zell's eyes were sparkling from delight, "Can I read one or two? I'll wash my hands."

"Whatever," replied Squall, meaning it as a 'yes'.

And so the minutes passed by, slowly melting into a too much indefinite amount of time for a human brain to measure. The heat went on, not caring much about the fan's effort to spread it.

And it got dark. Not too much, but the lack of colors in his view probably made it worse. It was like everything had been desaturated, and the people passing by were not even paying attention about anything, just heading towards wherever they needed to be. It kind of looked like a subway station. Squall felt he was trying to get something and felt the urge to ask for help from any of those strangers. But was it not stupid to do so? What guarantee did he have that it would work in any way? He could not even remember what he wanted so badly. Still, he ran around trying to find any clue about what he wanted.

Maybe he was forbidden to find it. But that was as stupid as saying you flew over something from above. Maybe he just had not found it in himself yet.

And as he pondered about everything, someone touched his shoulder. Squall immediately responded impulsively by turning around too fast.

So fast he hit Zell's head with his and both of them fell to the floor of Squall's room. At least the colors were back.

"Ouch," stated Zell with apparently no real drama to it. But more importantly, their position on the carpet made both of them blush feverishly. Squall had his legs grinding with Zell's, and his head was on the blonde's chest. He slowly pushed himself up, but was stopped by a hand on his arm.

Maybe the heat was too strong, but even so Squall's body was reacting as if it wanted _more_ heat. And another source was right in front of him, or rather, under him. It was a strange urge for... for Zell? What was wrong with him? Had someone spiked his food or something?

But Zell stared straight into his eyes, locking Squall's and making him partially forget about everything else. He was pulled down, his face getting too close to his friend's... His _friend's_ face.

_What the—?_

Lips touched, Zell's eyes closed while Squall's enlarged in surprise. The sinful moment lasted an eternity — or at least long enough for Squall to notice he was pushing himself against Zell. Something was not right. Or maybe something was _too_ right. His mouth opened to gasp, and a tongue invaded it, exploring and making him feel the strangest of feelings.

_Are... are we kissing!_

Squall pulled away, sitting on the floor and dragging himself away from Zell for fear of what had just happened. Zell's look looked so pained it was like he was a lost puppy in the rain. Squall felt guilty, but then he realized he felt guilty for everything at that point. What was he supposed to do anyway?

"I—," he started saying, doing his best to clear his throat that refused to comply, "What the hell—?"

"Sorry!" Zell interrupted him, though it did not seem like he was going to say anything else, "I didn't mean to, uh, y'know, maybe I did, I don't know, but I—"

Squall noticed that Zell did not understand what had happened either, or at least that he could not rationally explain it. He did not blame his friend for what happened, but Squall was in some kind of emotional crisis, and it did not allow him to think straight again. Maybe they both had wanted it to happen and just did not realize yet. Nonsense, thought Squall. But nothing else made any sense at all. Maybe he should risk asking, but then again, when did Squall risk things unnecessarily?

At least he was sure of one thing: things would never be the same again.

"Zell," maybe a direct approach would be best, "what was that?"

"That was a... um, a kiss I guess." Zell also seemed to be in crisis, but for a different reason, probably. "Why, I thought you knew what a kiss is, right?"

"I guess."

"So... do you... hate me?"

Hate? What the hell did hate had to do with anything? Squall simply imagined it to be a problem because... Because... What was the problem again?

"Do you?" asked Squall, unsure about everything in his life at that point.

"No! I would never hate—," Zell began, then suddenly changed his expression to a more cautious look, "I mean, there's no reason for me to hate you. Besides, I'm... I'm the one who... who kissed you..."

"Why...?"

"I don't know... I—" Zell stopped for full five seconds, seeming to be deciding something very important. "Okay, I lied! It's because I love you, man. I can't stop thinking about you all the time."

_Oh._ Everything made much more sense then. Except... why did he like it? Or did he? The kiss, that is. Things were cleared and now they seem to be all scrambled around. As if uncovering a secret led passage to the suspicion of many others. Was life always that complicated? Squall reflected a little and then concluded: yes, it was.

"I hate myself," Zell continued, "I shouldn't, I know, but I can't help it. You... you must hate me too badly."

"I don't," Squall said in a spur of reflex.

"Why not...?"

"I... I think it isn't that... bad... at least not as much as you make it sound." Was he trying to be nice or did he mean it?

"You sound like you don't like it."

He sighed. He tried to remember that moment when their lips touched, and something inside him really craved for... physically remembering that feeling. It might not have been bad at all. Had he enjoyed it? He could not remember clearly.

And then there was Zell's love towards him... What was he supposed to do about it? He could never have imagined anyone to love him, especially Zell. Maybe that was because he never really cared about understanding anyone too deeply. Maybe someone normal would have noticed.

"Do you... do you really mean it?"

It took a moment for Zell to understand the question. "I do."

_I can't begin to imagine how__hard it must be... What is it like to fall in love anyway?_Squall could only wonder. Actually, he had never stopped a single second in his life to wonder something _everyone_ wondered at least once in their lives. If Zell was not lying, it meant such trouble he did not want to think whatever he should do then. And that was the problem, he had never stopped to think of what he would do in such a situation.

"I think I should leave," suddenly said Zell, standing to make his way to the door.

Squall stayed put, not moving a single muscle to stop his friend from going out. A part of him wanted to stop Zell, but the other part kept asking, 'Why?'. However stupid it seemed, it felt like leaving him right then would be so heartless, so... against what he wanted, whatever that was.

And he had but a few seconds more to decide. Would he act impulsively, or would he wait until he found an answer there might not even exist?

* * *

Zell stood. He could not stand to be next to Squall like that, when everything in his world was crumbling. The little balance he had attained so far had just broken, and being a burden to the one he cared most would just make it worse. Thus he would just leave Squall alone, like he always enjoyed to be. And that was exactly why Zell did not hope for Squall to stop him. He had learned after all that time that dreaming too far would never help later on, no matter how addictive it was. Yet, a part of him, a very small part though with a strength of unknown magnitude, wished for Squall to stand and stop Zell before he left for good.

Still, Zell covered that small part of his with all his strength and twisted the door knob that would lead him outside Squall's place.

"Zell," he heard and thought his mind was playing tricks on him. He resumed opening the door, when he heard it again, "Zell."

He turned his head, and saw Squall standing. Strange, was he not sick and having problems standing too fast? Zell froze in his place, his heart beating like a frenetic Guitar Hero player beats the buttons of the controller. It was a lie, he was going crazy and he would go the infirmary for a check-up.

"Zell, I...," Squall began speaking, but his lack of communication practice probably made it difficult for him to say whatever he wanted to say. Instead, he pulled Zell closer and kissed him like there was no tomorrow. It obviously seemed like he had no idea what kissing was like, but as Zell kissed him back, the whole scene became so symbiotic nothing mattered but the feeling of touching each other's lips. It was a dream. Not like those he had and then woke up from wishing it had never ended, but like a beautiful painting that melted into one's soul, filling it with joy — only infinite times better.

Their lips parted, their tongues intertwined, crazy for more of that addicting feeling. Hands touched, only to be forgotten and go explore each other's bodies. It was a moment of happiness. A moment of need, however, and berserk craving for connection.

And it was only after a knock on the door behind Zell that they parted, gasping for air and trying to bring back their composure. Squall opened the door still fighting his lack of air, while Zell hid himself behind it.

"Hey, Squall, let's all have dinner together!" Zell deducted from the voice it was Selphie. But he was surprised: dinner? What time was it? Just how much time had passed...?

"Uh, sure. I'll be there in a minute."

"Okay," she said, still being cheerful like always, "Oh, by the way, have you seen Zell? He's been missing all afternoon and I can't find him anywhere."

"I—I'm sure he'll show up," Squall said, a little too obviously suspicious, with that blush on his face and the stammering in his voice.

"Do you know anything I don't...?" she asked mischievously. She was obviously just teasing, but Squall could not have guessed.

"Of course not." The answer came too quickly.

"Alright, and Zell is not hiding behind the door is he?"

He visually gulped, "No." And that was when Selphie forced the door to its maximum angle, squeezing Zell. He could not help his interjection of pain.

"Gotcha! ...Now tell me, why were you hiding here, Zell?"

Zell squeezed his way out of that tight spot and faced Selphie, "Because I—I mean, we were... uh..."

"Zell was helping me out with some reports." So Squall could make up some good excuses every now and then.

"_Zell_ was?" Or maybe not that good.

"So, Selphie, forget about that! Let's eat! Man, I'm starving...," tried Zell.

"Suuuuuuuure..."

As they walked to the cafeteria along with Selphie, who had been nice enough to drop the subject, Zell had the bad feeling she would be saving it for later, with everyone else on the table. Yet he did not really care much right then. The day had suddenly become too good for anything bad to be strongly affecting him.

And as he suspected, Selphie did comment on them.

"Quistis, you have no idea where I found Zell!"

"Where was he...?" the former instructor asked with a smirk on her lips.

"Hiding at the commander's bedroom," Selphie sang, "doing whatever they were doing, and it looked veeery suspicious..."

"Like...?"

"Like nothing," said Zell, glancing at Squall.

"Like conquering the world! Or maybe you're making a plan to spread the peace and love?"

"Yeah, let's go with that..." Zell and Squall both sighed. Not in relief, but because of Selphie's randomness. And she kept on making weird assumptions as she pleased. Irvine, who was by her side, was only half paying attention; his other half was more concerned about which of the women passing through was the most astounding one. Quistis was just mildly curious, probably not taking it much seriously. Rinoa... She had a sneaky look and a smirk on her face, like she was enjoying listening just as much as Selphie was enjoying talking.

In the end, nothing had really happened. Well, apart from Squall against all expectations claiming Zell's lips, it was not like they were suddenly... dating or whatever. Things were still... under observation.

Squall looked either bored or tired from the noisy — and nosy — girl. At that point, everyone had already finished their meals. Zell thought he might go to his own room relax. A pain from all that time ago when he had fallen for Squall still remained in his heart. Yet, the pain felt good, it felt warm. Sure, the day had been way too hot for him to be enjoying higher temperatures then, but that was different. It had allowed him to be a little selfish after all that time thinking only of making Squall happy — because that was until then the only way to express his love, even if no one saw or knew of that expression. How could he not be happy?

And as he shut the door of his place behind him, he stretched and lied down on the first soft thing he found around. However, he was quickly shaken out of his sleepiness when a knock on his door was heard.

"Hey, Squall," said Zell after standing up and opening door.

Were things to be that way, or had they twisted their own fates? Maybe such a thing was not predetermined completely, but instead a consequence of each of their choices. Right then, Zell only knew he was glad it came to be that way, and not the ruin path which he had always feared that would have come. Squall probably still had his doubts, and so had him — but either way that was the best outcome that could have ever happened to Zell.

* * *

A/N: I hope you all liked it, even though I did not enjoy the end very much. It was not as beautiful as one would expect. Or natural for that matter...

btw, I just noticed Squall is WAY OOC back there... Shoot, should've paid more attention, now it's too late...


End file.
